The Other Story of Banoi
by Athos Bardia
Summary: Ryker Hart and his friends were just on a normal vacation in the beautiful island of Banoi when everything just went wrong. The world literally took a nose dive into anarchy and disease. No one really knows how it happened, all they know is that they have to get off of the island and get back home. (More detailed summary inside)


**Author's Note: I do not own the Dead Island Franchise or most of the places mentioned in this story. I only own the names of the characters and how they are portrayed. **

**Disclaimer: This Fan fiction is rated M for violence, strong language, death and moments that made me cry. (Yes, while I wrote it. For real.)**

Chapter 1

Ryker Hart and his group of survivors on the island of Banoi have been trying to survive for three weeks, and this is one of those moments when they stand toe to toe with death. The group of six stand in a corner, in front of a chain link fence, their makeshift weapons held fiercely as they stand up against eight walkers. They were in the city of Moresby, and a few seconds ago they were getting chased by ten or more infected. Bob Fisher pointed out the fence they were now backed up against, and they all had climbed it. Only to end up in the situation they are in now.

Ryker sighed, knowing that his fireman's axe was about to get twice as bloody as it already is. He swung it at the first walker's head who was about to lunge at him. The head of the axe slammed into the side of its head and got stuck about halfway into the head. The walker fell to its knees then slumped onto its side, the axe still buried in the head.

Ryker put his foot on the zombie's body and yanked out his axe, with a sick sucking sound. Bobby had sliced one's head in half with his sickle, and Sage decapitated the other three with her machete, in one swing.

"Alright guys, let's find Ryan and get out of here." Ryker said as he rested his axe on his shoulder. Bob nods and ties his sickle to his belt. The group walks out into the main street just as Ryan drives up in the Jeep. Ryker, Sage, Bob, Sophie, Catherine, and Nathan all piled in and sped away to their safe house, a large house with a wrought iron gate fence around it.

Three weeks before…

Ryker was with two of his friends in Banoi for vacation when the world went to shit. His two friends, Dillon and Rick, had gotten hammered the night before. Ryker didn't get hammered, because he doesn't like his thinking to be too clouded, but he was drunk. Because of this they slept through the whole night, and much of the morning.

Rick woke up with a groan, holding his head. "Ugh…I totally drank too much last night.." he slowly stood and went to get some water. Rick opened the small mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.

As he drank it, Rick looked out the window and saw wreaked cars, pools of blood and people stumbling around slowly. Rick Bishop blinked, rubbed his eyes and looked again. Nothing changed. "Oh no…this…this is bad…" He ran over and yanked open his to go wake up his two friends. He say a person laying on the floor, his ribs completely showing, because half of his torso seems to have been eaten away. "Whoa…whoa…" Rick rushed over to the guy and shook him slightly. "Hey…hey man…?" The man lunged at him, snapping at Rick's hands and arms.

"OH FUCK!" he screamed as he jumped backwards to avoid being bitten. The man kept going at Rick though, crawling on his hands and knees. Rick looked around for a weapon of some sort, hoping to find something. Even a broom! Rick saw a small pipe and grabbed it, shaking slightly.

"Get back!" Rick yelled at the man who was still advancing at him. The man did not stop. Rick screamed and smacked the thing in the face. The man stumbled backwards and Rick was on top of him in a second, beating his face with the pipe without stopping until the man's skull was cracked open.

Rick slowly fell off the now dead man and sat against the wall, trying to catch his breath. _What the hell is this?_ He thought, then slowly got up, the blood pipe still in hand.

Ryker heard the screams and woke up with a start. "OH FUCK!"

_That sounds like Rick…what the hell is going on? _Ryker got up and rushed out to see Rick beating the shit out of a man with a small pipe. Ryker's eyes widened; then noticed that the man under Rick was missing most of his torso.

Rick slowly slumped against the wall and Ryker walked over to him as he slowly stood. "Rick, what the hell was that for?"

"He tried to flipping bite me!" Rick yelled at him.

"Okay, okay. Just calm down, Rick. Let's go find Dillon and figure out what's going on."

When they reached Dillon's room they knocked on the door, and when they didn't hear anything Ryker stepped back and kicked the door down, grunting softly from the pain in his foot and ankle. Rick walked in casually, the blood on his pipe and arms beginning to dry.

Ryker was still in his clothes from last night, blue jeans, sneakers, and a light blue button up shirt, which was unbuttoned now, showing his defined muscles and the scars on his stomach and chest. The scar on his left cheek, starting about the middle of it and going to his left ear lobe purple from the morning air, Ryker seemed to be always on guard, a trait he picked up from the streets of Atlanta, which was a must have for the end of the world.

Rick was in jeans, sneakers and a white, and now spattered with blood, undershirt. His blonde hair was a mess and his eyes were blood shot, from all the alcohol last night. He realized, with a slight smile, that he did not wake up with a girl, even though he was hammered. Maybe that was a God send.

Dillon, the deep sleeper he was, was still asleep on the bed, and Ryker blinked. "How much did he have?"

Rick chuckled softly and kicked Dillon off the bed. Dillon jumped up to his feet, his light brown hair a mess and his blue eyes wide, then he rubbed his red side, and realized he was naked. "Rick! What the hell?!" Then he felt the head ache "Oh damn…I got hammered." He sighed, rubbing his head softly.

"We'll explain it later, just get dressed." Ryker said, going to the small kitchenette to find a knife or something to use as a weapon.

Dillon got into some clothes, jeans and a red t-shirt; then went to Ryker. "Dude, the Hotel parking lot is a total mess. And it seems like everybody's on Acid."

Ryker just sighed, but smiled slightly while Rick laughed. "Dillon, this isn't something as simple as that. Rick just about got his face chewed off my some guy that was missing most of his chest. Get a weapon and follow me." Ryker said as he walked out into the hallway, holding his cleaver he found in the kitchen.

It seemed clear, so he started walking to the stairs; he opened the door just as the power cut out.

"Oh. Brilliant." Rick said as he walked up behind Ryker. Dillon pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight feature, then Ryker kept going.

They got into the parking garage, Dillon broke into a truck, and they piled in then started driving away. The things stumbled around outside, chasing them, but not for far. Rick kept driving; cars were wreaked and zombies were everywhere. Rick didn't even try to avoid hitting them after a while. He just kept going, hoping to find someone who was alive.

Now that the adrenaline was wearing off their hang overs were coming back. Dillon groaned as the piercing head ache split through his skull.

"Guys…let's stop at this gas station, maybe someone here can help us." Ryker said as Rick nodded and pulled up to it. They all got out, weapons ready, which only Rick and Ryker had, Dillon couldn't find anything good enough. There didn't see, to be too many zombies around, so they walked straight up to the door. A man was standing behind a barred up window and said, "Wait just a second, I'll open the door." Then the man disappeared back into the gas station. A few seconds passed; the door opened. "Quick. Inside." The old mafn said. Ryker, Rick and Dillon rushed in, the man slamming the door shut behind them and locking it.

"We need some information on how this all happened. We were…asleep…" Ryker said, sitting on the counter beside the cash register.

"Well, we're not quite sure how the infection began. All we know is that it's spread through a bite...and it affects people differently. Some just stumble around and attack you once you're close enough, but others turn into shrieking beasts that run after you until either you're dead or they lose track of you."

Ryker nodded slowly as he listened to the old man give them his information. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it. It sounded like some bazar form of rabies, because it made you lose your mind. But you don't die, well, you do but...Ryker sighed frustratedly. Growing up on the streets in Atlanta taught him to look at all his options, and right now, he didn't really have any.

"Is there more survivors?" Rick asked, worried that they were it.

"I'm sure there are. If you're looking for more people, I suggest heading to Moresby." The man said, then handed them all the money from the cash register. "It's useless to me now. Maybe you folks could use it."

"Thank you, sir. Could we get some gas?" Ryker asked, standing up.

"Of course," he points to some canisters, "take as much as you need."

"Thank you so much. If we can, we'll get you off this God forsaken island." Dillon said as he started grabbing some canisters. They went outside and filled up as much as their truck could hold.

Just as Dillon was putting the last blue gas canister into the bed of the truck, they heard a blood curdling shriek, followed by several more. Twenty or more of the fast things came charging out of the trees straight at them.

"Oh fuck!" Ryker yelled as he saw their inhuman speed. He knew his cleaver would only kill so man. It wasn't made for splitting skulls. Rick glared at the things running at them and gritted his teeth together, enraged. He griped the pipe in his hand tightly, "I'll hold them off. You guys get out of here." He said, his voice calm, cold, and murderous. Rick knew, in the back of his mind, that the chances of him getting out alive were close to none.

"Rick, just get-" ,Dillon was cut off by Ryker.

"No Dillon, just get the old man, let's go." The first infected had just reached Rick and he smacked it across the face with his pipe, enough force behind the blow to split its skull, and the pipe became dinted.

Dillon ran back into the gas station to get the man, only to see him being ripped apart by a huge zombie. The zombie let out a deep, loud roar and ripped the man's neck out.

Ryker jumped into the truck and cranked it, shifting into gear, as Rick was still fighting off the infected with all his might. His white undershirt is now soaked with blood, the pipe bent slightly and very dented. Rick's hair was soaked with sweat, and he was breathing raggedly, but his eyes were still filled with fire.

Ryker took all this in at a glance, in that glance, he also knew this would be the last time he ever saw his friend. They had been through thick and thin together. Now this was going to be it. Rick looked back at Ryker and smiled slightly, saying in his smile and eyes, "Good bye, my friend."

Dillon jumped into the truck and said, "The old man is dead. We've got to get Rick." Ryker just shook his head slowly and began speeding away, with a glance back at Rick, Dillon understood.

Rick hand lost his pipe, and the infected were surrounding him, he fell down in a heap of them, blood spewing from his neck as one of them latched on and tore out his throat. Another one tearing out his stomach, Rick already dead from the first bite.


End file.
